Ruins of the Mind

by Jason Stadtlander

  Marietta resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “The Sheadroch is nothing more than an imprudent old woman who has no greater capacity of protecting the village than you or I—surely you don’t believe in her power, Eppa.”

  The old man’s lips curled inward as if he had some kind of secret knowledge he was about to bestow. “Ah—you or I…an interesting choice of words,” he said quietly, simply looking at her. Then his expression changed as his gaze moved to the fountain.

  “For years you have read and wondered about the olim-words etched into the wall outside our village—yet do you know what they mean?” he asked.

  Marietta shook her head slowly from side to side, looking at him expectantly. She was hoping that the mysterious words were about to be explained. “I have tried to understand, Eppa. I read and reread the words but have never been able to make sense of them. If only I had the missing pieces—I feel certain I could put it all together.”

  “Ah, but I have the missing pieces,” he said with a knowing smile. “You see, dear, they are right here,” he said, tapping his index finger against his right temple.

  He had her full attention now and continued on. “You might be surprised to learn that your eppa on your father’s side and I are the ones who inscribed the olim-words on the wall surrounding the village. We were instructed to do so by the Sheadroch who led our village when we were young men—a very beautiful woman. As you know, the Sheadroch is believed to have the power of casting. She created a spell of protection for the village and ordered it written on the walls to ward off would-be intruders. The words contained a warning to those who threatened to invade our village and were a tribute to those who had protected the village with their blood. A part of the spell was etched on each of the four walls as a direct warning to any who encountered it.”

  Eppa began his explanation of the inscription.

  “On the first wall, the inscription reads…”

  These strong walls protect the people in the village of Akalee. Fallen are the warriors who have protected it; remembered are the fathers who have given life to those within.

  “On the second wall, the words say…”

  Cursed are those who enter this realm without the permission of the village elders; doomed are they who attempt to bring harm upon our people.

  “Then the third wall says…”

  The Gravethons watch over the Sheadroch and carry the souls of the departed; those who have passed on have bestowed strength and power upon those left behind, allowing us to prevail over our enemies.

  “And then on the fourth wall it says…”

  Let the example of Hedraith the Barbarian live on as a warning to those who attempt to bring harm upon us; any who attempt to do us harm will fall to the same fate.

  Marietta’s eppa finished. She sat still for a moment in silence, stunned. When she finally spoke, it was in a voice close to a whisper. “I had no idea that there were other words on the rest of the walls. I’ve only seen the one. You wrote those words, Eppa—why have you never told me?”

  He patted her hand affectionately. “There was no need to tell you until now, my dear.”

  Marietta had so many questions. “But who is Hedraith the Barbarian and what happened to him? And what is a Gravethon?”

  “I cannot tell you everything here, but you will have every question answered soon enough. For now, you must trust me when I tell you that you are not to venture outside the village gates unless you have someone accompany you that is strong enough to fight off those who would do you harm. It is much too dangerous for you to go out alone.”

  Marietta was quiet, lost in her thoughts. A newfound heaviness hung over her. This instinctive feeling was unsettling enough that she half expected some visible manifestation to align with her uneasiness and show itself. But only sparkling stars filled the coming night as it slowly blanketed the village.

  The old man moved to his feet, steadying himself with his cane. “Come to the house of the Sheadroch tomorrow morning at the crest of half day. I will meet you there and tell you everything you need to know.”

  THE MORNING SUN was drawing directly overhead as Marietta made her way through the village to the house of the Sheadroch. Although she very much wanted to know the answers to her questions, she was not keen on getting her answers from the Sheadroch herself. The old woman was considered crazy by many villagers and talked strangely, as if it took great effort to form each word she spoke. No one knew for sure how old she was, but in early childhood, Marietta’s eppa had told her the Sheadroch had seen at least ninety full harvests. She thought this to be an exaggeration, however, as she didn’t see how anyone could really live that long—nearly one hundred years old if the assumptions were correct.

  As Marietta walked through the village, she stopped at Chintelwick’s Market to purchase flowers for the old woman. It was customary to offer a gift to the Sheadroch when seeking her counsel; to arrive empty-handed was considered rude. Marietta spotted a beautiful spring bouquet of lilies and other flowers in assorted hues of bright orange and blue. The grouping was lovely, undoubtedly created by a tradesman from over the ridge. The scent was richly fragrant, having a soothing effect on the senses. She immediately purchased the aromatic bouquet and left hurriedly to visit the Sheadroch.

  When Marietta arrived at the old woman’s house, she stopped shy of the door. She could hear the old woman cackling inside and the warm laughter of her eppa reciprocating the Sheadroch’s jovial mood. She could not understand what Eppa saw in the Sheadroch; the woman so often appeared angry and bitter. It didn’t seem logical to Marietta that the Sheadroch could have enough warmth in her demeanor to please her happy eppa.

  Marietta approached the old wooden door, reaching out to pull the frayed sisal rope hanging to the right. Two muted bells chimed inside the aged, thick-walled home. Instantly, the laughter within subsided and there was dead silence from behind the door. Marietta envisioned the two friends inside, sitting in the living room of the old house, jovial and enjoying each other’s company at first—then abruptly serious, startled by the sudden interruption of their playful reverie.

  The aging door creaked on its metal hinges as it opened slowly into the dark interior. The Sheadroch herself stood in the doorway. The old woman’s mouth was flat and calloused, creating a deep, thin line across her prune-like face. Her skin appeared leathery like a well-worn glove that felt so comfortable you didn’t notice it covering your hand. She wore an old blue dress frayed at the hem, no doubt from constant dragging across the rough wooden floor. Atop the dress, she donned a clean white apron wrapped around her rotund waist.

  “Hello child, do come in and dawnt ya be touchin nottin dat ya might break,” she said, slightly trilling the “r” in “break.”

  Marietta stepped up into the house, bowing her head a bit so as not to hit her head on the beam that crossed the door. Similar to the old woman, the house appeared to be shrinking with age. The ceilings felt too low and the floors tilted slightly toward the outside walls. The geometry of the place was off everywhere, but even so, the house possessed a certain charm.

  “Marietta,” Eppa greeted her, nodding his head and smiling in her direction.

  “Do sit down der,” the Sheadroch said, gesturing to the worn old chair in the corner.

  The woven-rope seat creaked as Marietta sat down. She placed her hands in her lap, clasping them together as any fine young lady should do, sitting up straight. Marietta looked over at the old woman as the Sheadroch claimed the most comfortable chair in the room for herself. Once the Sheadroch had centered the backs of her legs against the front of the puffy, cushioned chair, she used her cane as a prop to lower herself down and flopped loudly into the seat.

  “Do ya know why yur here?” she asked.

  Marietta jumped right in. “Eppa explained the olim-words to me last night. I was told they serve as a warning to anyone who tries to attack the village and are also a memorial to people who have protected us throughout the years.”

/>   The old woman lowered her chin, her eyes narrowing. “A shpell,” she interrupted, her voice all serious and her eyes aflame.

  “Yes—Eppa said that as well,” Marietta replied.

  There was silence as the old woman looked over at Eppa, giving him a swift nod of her chin as a cue to take over the conversation.

  “It wasn’t exactly a spell,” he said, hesitating a bit. “It was really just words. You see, Marietta, the Sheadroch at the time—Shaudee…” he paused, gesturing over toward the Sheadroch.

  The old woman reacted as if this was her cue to repeat the name, interjecting curtly, “Mmmm, Shaudee…”

  Eppa smiled kindly and continued. “Shaudee knew the barbarians who attacked us—the Fenkars. They had no written language and thus did not know how to read. It was her idea to create etched warnings on the outside walls, and the reasoning was this. It would be explained to the barbarians as an evil spell that would curse anyone who entered the village unwelcomed—a reasonable plan as it turns out.”

  The old woman’s face came alive instantly as she erupted into loud, cackling laughter, making her appear years younger. She gestured with her hands in a wide arc. “Oh yesh! An evil shpell,” she repeated and burst into laughter again.

  Marietta was taken aback. Outside this house, she had never seen the Sheadroch smile, let alone laugh, and Marietta smiled in return at the humorous spectacle before her. She was beginning to see that the Sheadroch possessed a pleasant countenance and was not at all the wicked woman so many believed her to be.

  Eppa chuckled lightly and continued, “Yes, an evil spell! Anyway, the words were chosen with great care, and then we carved them into the side of all four walls. Of course, it wasn’t the words themselves that held the power but instead the barbarians’ belief that the words held a spell.” His eyes danced at the thought of such cleverness.

  “So a group of us snuck away from the village in the middle of the night, including myself, the Sheadroch and your eppa on your father’s side. We quietly entered the village of Fenkar while everyone slept soundly, completely unaware of our presence…”

  The old woman remained sitting, engrossed and in good humor, an amused look on her face as if she were anticipating the climax of a very funny story to be revealed at any second.

  Eppa continued his story. “And so we walked directly to the village leader’s home—his name was Hedraith. Your other eppa smeared white cooking grease on his own face, and then Sheadroch powdered it with flour so that he possessed a pale white, ghostly face. Finally, your eppa covered himself in a hooded death cloak. Then he snuck into Hedraith’s home ever so carefully and made his way to the bedroom where Hedraith and his wife slept, looming over them at the foot of the bed.”

  There was a dramatic pause while Eppa collected his words, adopting a more serious demeanor. Marietta looked from her eppa to the smiling Sheadroch and back again. She was eager to hear the end of this legendary tale.

  Eppa continued, standing now, his expression shifting to a look of impending doom. In a deep voice, he said, “Your eppa on your father’s side chanted in a deep, intimidating voice, saying, ‘Doom will fall on the house of Hedraith for the vile invasions brought down upon the village of Akalee. A curse is written upon the walls that surround the village. Henceforth, all who enter Akalee uninvited will surely die within a day’s time of stepping inside the village walls.’”

  And with that, Eppa fell back into his chair, appearing somewhat spent from the dramatic recall of the tale. He quickly gathered his thoughts again, however, a mischievous grin crossing his face. “Now, while your other eppa was busy acting out his part, the Sheadroch and I visited Hedraith’s aqueducts and sprinkled some Anestriphine into them…”

  Marietta interrupted, raising her voice in alarm. “Anestriphine —the poison? Were you aware that you could have killed someone?”

  Chuckling, the Sheadroch interjected, “Only in its purist fawm child. In da small amounts, especially mixed wit da wadda, it just makes dem very sick. Very sick, indeed.” The thought of such cunning entertained the Sheadroch, and she laughed loudly.

  Eppa continued on in earnest. “The point was not to kill him but to make him sick enough to ward him off—so sick that he would never attack the village again.”

  “The curse…” Marietta said, her eyes narrowing, nodding in sudden understanding.

  “After the Sheadroch and I were done with the deed, we walked to the outskirts of Hedraith’s village, waiting for your eppa. Meanwhile, back at Hedraith’s, your eppa finished spinning the tale the Sheadroch had instructed him to tell, ending his performance by reaching into his robe pocket, grabbing a fistful of contact flash powder and throwing it at the ceiling. A bright flash exploded in the room, momentarily blinding the couple and providing the perfect escape for your eppa.”

  Marietta sat spellbound from the tale. “So, Eppa, what happened after that?” she asked, eager to hear the rest of the story.

  “Well, the speculation is that Hedraith became terribly ill and interpreted his sickness as an omen to never enter the village of Akalee again—and he never did. I returned later under the cloak of darkness to Hedraith’s home, making certain he had lived through the frightening ordeal. Both he and his mate were fine as it turns out—and as far as I know, they lived to a ripe old age.” A look of triumphant satisfaction came over Eppa’s face from the recollection of this master plan that had worked to perfection.

  Marietta relaxed back in her chair. She was satisfied that all her questions had been answered, save one. “My last question for both of you is this: why have you chosen now to explain the etchings on the walls to me?” She looked at the old woman and then back at Eppa, curious as to their motive.

  The old woman spoke first. “You have been studyin da herbs and da plants. You have had da interest in da village’s well-being. Your moder was da Sheadroch at one time…”

  Marietta’s face turned sharply to her eppa in surprise. “My mother—the Sheadroch?” she questioned skeptically, not believing. “But Eppa, you have always said my mother and father were killed in some kind of an accident.”

  Eppa looked at her affectionately, sadly. “They were, dear. But what I failed to explain was that after Shaudee decided to step down as Sheadroch, she appointed your mother to continue on in her place. Your mother was very much like you, Marietta. She possessed a keen understanding of medicines, plants and herbs. She was the perfect choice then…just as you are now.”

  The three remained silent while Marietta sat, waiting for an explanation. Eppa’s eyes grew misty as he recalled the details of the deaths of Marietta’s parents.

  “Your parents were out collecting plants on the east side of the village wall near the falls. Defina, your mother, was reaching out over the ledge near the waterfall, trying to grab hold of a rare flower, when the ground gave way beneath her. Apparently, she was able to hold on to the ledge long enough for your father to grab hold of one hand, but as he pulled her to safety, the ground broke beneath him as well and they both fell to the cliff below, just above the falls. Your mother hit the ground first. Then your father fell on top of her, snapping her neck and killing her instantly.” Eppa let out a heavy sigh. “Miraculously, your father made his way back to the village, carrying your mother’s lifeless body in his arms, but within a week, he had passed on as well, leaving me to care for their three-year-old daughter.”

  Marietta acknowledged her understanding in a whisper. “Me,” she said sadly.

  “Yes…you,” Eppa confirmed. “Shaudee then took your mother’s place as Sheadroch again only because she was the only one who understood what needed to be done, and Shaudee would now like you to continue in her place, Marietta.”

  Shaudee smiled tenderly, looking over at Marietta. “I am too old. Not as quick on da feet as I used ta be,” the old woman said with some regret.

  “Will you take her place? Will you help watch over our village, Marietta? It is a high honor, what Shaudee is asking of you,” Epp
a asked Marietta directly. He locked his gaze with hers, waiting expectantly for her answer.

  Marietta bit her lip in hesitation. “But I will need guidance. I’m not sure what I need to do—what would be expected of me.”

  A wide smile cut across Shaudee’s weathered face, and a twinkle danced in her aging eyes. “I will help ya all I can, child. I may not be quick on da feet, but I am still bright in da mind.”

  First, a look of apprehension spread across Marietta’s lovely face. Next, a hint of eager anticipation reached her eyes. Finally, Marietta’s happy laughter rang out her confirmation as both Eppa and Shaudee’s laughter joined in the celebration.

  The village of Akalee had its new Sheadroch.

  The day was quite ordinary. After Rose had dropped her son and daughter off at Marblehead Elementary, she had taken some shirts to the cleaners, and now she was on her way to Crosby’s Grocery to pick up a few odds and ends for a surprise birthday party she was giving her husband Seamus.

  She had taken the day off to prepare as it was the first surprise party she had ever planned, and she wanted to get it right. Rose was excited but nervous about pulling it all together. She had a routine physical scheduled at 11 a.m. with Doctor Dewitt, her OB/primary care physician. After that, she would be able to finish decorating the house prior to picking up the children from school.

  Marblehead was an affluent town. Unlike a great percentage of the population there, she and Seamus struggled to make ends meet. It was worth it because Marblehead was a safe, charming community that offered their children an exceptional education. The downside was that their choice had strapped them financially. Rose always felt a little self-conscious when entertaining friends, fearing their home didn’t live up to the expectations of the other residents.